


Ever

by Branch



Series: After [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Angst, Drama, Humor, Multi, Romance, divergent future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-11
Updated: 2010-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-06 04:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Branch/pseuds/Branch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suppose the series ended with Al restored, but not Ed, and Bradley still in power. Divergent Future, spoilers through ep 18. Roy takes Ed back under his wing and teaches him to be even more formidable. Drama, romance, domesticity, and eventual porn ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a year staying with Winry and Pinako Rockbell, Ed and Al return to Central with Winry to settle for a while. Roy pays them a visit...

Roy Mustang stood in the street and looked up at a large, though unpretentious, brick house. He had hoped he might not have to come here. But after a year of listening to rumors and whispers, of fielding more and less subtle inquiries, he had finally decided there was no choice after all.

Edward and Alphonse Elric had returned to Central City.

_No choice_, he reminded himself, and knocked briskly on the door. He heard an unfamiliar voice approaching.

“…don’t be ridiculous, Nii-san, there are plenty of reasons why it could be… Mustang-junsho?”

Roy couldn’t stop a smile, and didn’t really want to. In the door stood a rather lanky boy, blond hair cropped short, honey colored eyes dark with surprise, hand frozen on the doorknob. His voice sounded very different without the overlying echo the armor had given it, and it was lower now than it had been.

“Alphonse. You’re looking well.”

Considerably better than the last time he had seen Fullmetal’s brother, two days after the transmutation, when Alphonse had been indulging in some well-deserved hysterics. Alphonse blinked at him.

“Ah, I’m sorry, come in, please!”

Roy stepped inside and found Edward… Fullmetal leaning in the entry of the vestibule. _He_ looked very much his usual self.

“Plenty of reasons, huh?” he muttered. “Well, at least it means I don’t have to hike to headquarters to give you back the damn watch.”

“Indeed, that was what I came to discuss,” Roy told him agreeably.

“Well, come in, come in,” Alphonse shooed them all into an airy living room.

Roy was entertained to note that his time as a large suit of armor had apparently left Alphonse with an ingrained assumption that people would go where he directed them, which, of course, nearly everyone then did. Fullmetal, however, was not looking so welcoming. _He caught it, then_. _Sharp as always_.

“There’s nothing to discuss,” Fullmetal bit out, confirming Roy’s guess. “I’ve gotten what I need, and you’ve gotten your money’s worth out of us. Enough is enough.”

“Hm. That’s too bad,” Roy mused, leaning against a high-backed couch. “It will be a terrible shame for such a dedicated scholar to work without the resources of the National Library.”

A corner of Roy’s mouth twitched as longing flashed over Fullmetal’s face. Now to see if that would be enough…

“Mustang-junsho.” Alphonse’s voice sliced through the developing confrontation.

Roy suppressed a start. In the past Alphonse had rarely interrupted his brother’s arguments with Roy, and never in such a cold voice. A single look showed that Alphonse was not amused by the way the conversation had turned. That wasn’t a source of interference Roy had expected. Ah, well.

“Alphonse, have I offered my congratulations yet? You must be very relieved to be returned to your proper body,” he noted casually.

Fullmetal wasn’t the only Elric who was fast on the uptake. Alphonse’s eyes narrowed, and he suddenly resembled his brother far more strongly.

“Al,” Fullmetal cut in, voice low.

The brothers locked eyes in a moment of silent communication, and Alphonse nodded. “I’ll be upstairs helping Winry unpack, then,” he said, throwing a last warning look over his shoulder at Roy as he left.

Fullmetal turned to Roy, face still.

“Was that a threat?”

“No, actually, it wasn’t.” Roy passed a hand through his hair and heaved a silent sigh. Alphonse had broken his rhythm, now how to retrieve it?

“Junsho, just tell me why you’re here,” Fullmetal snapped.

Roy regarded him thoughtfully. It wasn’t an approach he had really considered, but Fullmetal was getting old enough that it might work. The fact that he hadn’t completely lost his temper yet was an encouraging sign.

“Very well. I’m here because you will not be able to leave.”

Fullmetal froze. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know how much you thought about what might happen afterward, if you succeeded in returning Alphonse’s body, but in the course of your search you’ve become very well known. The military will not be particularly willing to let an alchemist of your power out of its control. Even if they were, other interests would be quick to close in on you.”

Roy shook his head at Fullmetal’s wide eyes. He had been right; this was coming as a surprise.

“They can’t force me,” Fullmetal whispered.

Roy quashed his mild disgust at such naivete. It was probably just denial, because he knew Fullmetal was more intelligent than that.

“Many would probably use the fastest method and threaten your brother to win your compliance. While that would be a foolish thing,” he continued over Fullmetal’s snarl, “there are a great many fools in this world, and I assure you they will all be drawn to you like iron to a magnet.”

Roy wondered, with an academic sort of interest, whether Fullmetal would let go of the chair before he broke the back off. The grip of his right hand was making the wood creak.

“So,” Fullmetal finally ground out, “you’re saying that since I’m going to be manipulated by someone I might as well keep being manipulated by you?”

Roy tilted his head. “Effectively, yes.”

Wood splintered.

Roy let his own expression cool and cut across Fullmetal’s incensed inhalation. “Power like yours, once known, will not be let to lie.”

“So I should just resign myself to being a tool?!” Fullmetal spat.

“You are a tool,” Roy told him, bluntly. “For the last four years you’ve been my tool. You knew it. That was the bargain we made, the condition I set against the one you set. That bargain is done, though. Now it’s time to choose again how you will be used.”

Absolute rage filled Fullmetal’s eyes, and Roy had a moment’s doubt whether he was really ready for this much truth. Well, nothing for it now but to go on. He kept an eye on Fullmetal’s hands, which were flexing a bit ominously. Time for a suggestion, perhaps.

“If you don’t wish to be the tool of another, become your own.”

Puzzlement slowed the momentum of Fullmetal’s anger. “What do you mean?”

“You had a purpose all this time, and you let me use your power only in service of it,” Roy pointed out. “Fine. You succeeded; choose a new purpose.”

“And let whoever I need to make it happen manipulate me in service of _that_ one?” Fullmetal asked, rather skeptically. “Why?”

One side of Roy’s mouth curled up as he contemplated the boy in front of him. He was impressed that Fullmetal had realized just how vulnerable his obsession had made him. “If you don’t want to be manipulated, then learn the steps of this dance, Fullmetal. Until you do someone else will always be calling your measures. In the meantime, would it be so terrible to continue lending yourself to my ends? You haven’t found them distasteful so far, and I have the influence to keep others away from you for a while.”

Fullmetal paced two turns around the room before he stopped and looked sidelong at Roy. “Your ends? What _are_ your ends? You’ve used me blind long enough. Tell me what it is you want me for.”

Roy was pleased. He hadn’t actually expected Fullmetal to make that leap. “Youswell, Aquroya, Zenotime,” he recited quietly. “Lior. Do you remember Lior, Fullmetal?”

Fullmetal flinched and looked away.

“That wasn’t what I meant,” Roy told him. “Do you remember everything that happened there?”

Fullmetal frowned at him. “Yes,” he answered slowly.

“You can say as often as you wish that you only interfered because that Priest had a Stone,” Roy’s mouth quirked, “to others. But don’t think you can lie to me. You would have interfered in any case, because you saw something happening that was wrong.”

Fullmetal opened his mouth, paused, and closed it again. Roy smiled thinly.

“The notable thing, Fullmetal, is that you interfered successfully. You left chaos behind you, yes, but if it had not been for… other interference Lior would have sorted out its own affairs. That’s what I value. Your potential for creating useful chaos.”

Fullmetal leaned against a window while he processed this. “Stir up the mud so you can shape it the way you want it?” he summarized at last.

“I shape very little outside of the military itself, Fullmetal. I just want you to stir up the water so it flows downhill.”

Roy waited with practiced patience for Fullmetal to make up his mind about all this. He had better make up his mind now, because that was all the information Roy intended to part with at the moment. After another couple turns around the room Fullmetal slowed and stood still, staring at nothing.

“Learn the steps, huh?” he murmured at length.

When Fullmetal looked around at him Roy had to lift a brow. The gold eyes were gleaming, focused, as determined as Roy had ever seen them. _Something_ had obviously been decided on.

“Show me.”

The other brow joined the first.

“A new bargain? That’s it. _You_ know the steps. So show me. And I’ll run your damn errands for you.”

A slow smile tugged at Roy’s mouth. That had… potential. “A worthy bargain,” he agreed softly, and held out his hand.

Fullmetal’s closed around it and they both nodded.

And then Fullmetal broke away to shove a hand through his hair. “Al’s going to kill me,” he muttered.

“He looked more like he wanted to kill me, something I hope you will now be willing to dissuade him from,” Roy remarked.

Fullmetal shot him an unfriendly look. “That’ll be easier if you’re not here. I’ll come in tomorrow.”

Roy allowed himself to be escorted out and didn’t laugh until the door closed behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed makes the decision to continue protecting his brother.

Ed looked with dislike at the innocent wooden door in front of him. On the other side of it waited the beginning of the rest of his life, for what he was glumly sure would be years.

At least he had managed to persuade Al to stay home and help Winry calibrate her drill-press.

Unable to find a reason to delay any longer, Ed pushed open the door.

“Good morning, Fullmetal,” the General said without looking up from his papers.

Ed kicked the door shut behind him and slumped into the couch. The General’s mouth quirked.

“Starting my new collection of scuff marks already?”

Ed sniffed. “So? Where do you want me to go rake things up? I’m sure you have an itemized list.”

The General tented his hands. “Loose ends first. An exercise for you. What are you going to do about Alphonse?”

Cryptic and obscure as always, Ed reflected with irritation. Sometimes he really thought Mustang had been reading alchemical manuscripts for too long.

The General waved as it to brush Ed’s annoyance aside. “If you really don’t understand I’ll explain, but I need to know how much you see on your own.”

_What will I do about Al? I’ll keep him out of this!_ Ed voiced these sentiments. “As long as I’m being visible, everyone will pay less attention to Al. There was no reason for him to become the military’s dog then, and there’s less now.”

“And your shadow over him will be his protection.” The General nodded. “A good start. Now, what will you tell people about his appearance?”

Ed blinked.

“His appearance _has_ changed rather drastically,” Mustang pointed out with exaggerated patience. “You will need to have a reason for those who ask, if you don’t want anyone to start putting pieces together and suspecting the real reason. If you become seriously suspected of having performed human transmutation _and reversed it_ nothing will keep the two of you out of a locked room somewhere in this building for the rest of your lives.”

Ed, who had bridled at the sarcasm, stopped and thought. This was why he was here, to learn how to think of and prevent these things. And it was a familiar consideration, after all; just in a different form now. If Al really had been wearing armor why would he have stopped?

Well, there was always…

Ed started snickering. Before long he was leaning on the arm of the couch, clutching his stomach and chortling.

“Share the joke?” the General requested mildly.

“Oh, Al really would kill me,” Ed gasped.

The General waited.

“Winry!” Ed squeaked, and lost it again.

The General tapped his fingers on his desk and narrowed his eyes. Ed pulled himself together. “If Winry thought he looked better without the armor, and Al liked Winry…” Ed trailed off suggestively. He was positive that his brother did, in fact, like Winry, though he wasn’t sure Al had sorted that out for himself yet. And he _really_ wasn’t sure that Winry, mechanical geek that she was, would have any objection at all to a well-crafted suit of armor. She could be so weird.

“The only problem,” he continued, “besides the killing-me part when Al found out I started the rumor, is that both of them would be utterly clueless if anyone mentioned it to them. Or else utterly embarrassed. And then we’re back to Al killing me.”

“That would actually be very much in character if it were true,” the General observed. “You have a natural talent for more than alchemy, I see.”

Ed stared. “You’re not serious.”

The General returned his look evenly. “Do you disagree with my evaluation?”

“No,” Ed said slowly, “it would be… in character. But…”

But to use their reactions like that, to look at something so sweet and see it as nothing but another bit of verisimilitude… He swallowed against a sudden bitterness in his throat. “Do you think like this all the time?” he asked, strangled.

“Very nearly,” Mustang replied, cool and matter-of-fact. When Ed shuddered he relented somewhat. “The path you’ve chosen this time isn’t an easy or bright one, Fullmetal, any more than the last one. It’s no shame if you refuse to walk it. Quite the reverse, much of the time.”

Ed shut his eyes and thought back on the last four years. Al had protected his heart, he knew that, knew it was the only reason the pettiness and greed and horror he had stumbled through hadn’t made him crazier than that mad Ishvarite they had crossed paths with. Could Al protect him from this? Could he protect Al?

How else could he protect Al, than this?

“I won’t be used,” he managed, finally. “And I will not let Al be used.”

“Then your first lesson is concluded, Fullmetal.”

Ed looked at the General, feeling sick. The man’s voice gentled a bit.

“Visit the library on your way home; there are some additions to the Main branch I think you’ll enjoy.”

Ed scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling a wry smile take hold. Mustang knew him very well, he had to admit. Few things soothed him more than a few hours in a library. And he needed some peace badly enough not to kick over the source of the suggestion.

“Yeah.”

Ed closed the door silently behind him as he left.

* * *

“I’m home,” Ed called as he closed the front door.

“Welcome back, Nii-san, you’re just in time for lunch,” Al called from the direction of the kitchen.

With luck, Ed reflected, that meant that Winry was still taken up with hanging her wrenches in the fourth bedroom that had quickly become her workshop, or re-wiring the lighting in the sitting room they had chosen as her new operating room. Anywhere but near the food.

Sure enough, Al was alone in the kitchen, putting the finishing touch on sandwiches and a plate of sliced fruit. Ed leaned in the doorway, smiling, relaxing. Even after a year to get used to it the sight of Al in his proper body was enough to wipe away his darkest thoughts.

“How was your meeting with Mustang-junsho?”

Ed’s mouth twisted for a moment. Almost enough. But he had done this once, and the results had justified every second of pain and effort as far as he was concerned. It would be worth it this time, too. He would make sure of it.

He started to set the table so that Al might not see his expression. “Pretty well, I suppose.”

“Will you tell me, now, why you’re doing this, Nii-san?” Al asked quietly, as he handed over the napkins.

Ed winced. _So much for concealing things_. Al always managed to know what he was thinking. He sighed and leaned on the counter. “Because I think he told me the truth.”

Al waited him out.

“He said we’re too well known and won’t be left alone if we don’t have a strong sponsor.”

“You think he can see to it we’re left alone?”

Ed saw the sharp edge of his expression reflected in Al’s concerned eyes. “Yes,” he answered, low and definite. “He can.”

_I can_.

Al looked at him silently for a long moment. “All right,” he said finally. He came to lay a hand on Ed’s shoulder. “Be careful, all right?”

Gratitude lightened Ed’s mood, that Al would let him have his not-a-secret. He grinned and grabbed his little brother in a bear hug. He was stronger, even if Al _was_ two inches taller.

“Ack! Nii-san!” Al laughed, and hugged back.

“You two are so cute,” Winry commented from the doorway.

“Winry!” Ed exclaimed, fighting down a blush. “I am not _cute_!”

Al cut off whatever comment Winry’s evil grin had been about to transform into. “Lunch is ready.”

Distracted, Winry made for the table.

“Ah, this looks wonderful, Al, you’re such a good cook!” She bit into her sandwich and looked blissful.

Ed snorted. “You’re going to gain even more weight eating like that,” he prodded.

Winry’s eyes flashed.

“Nii-san,” Al sighed. “Stop teasing Winry and eat.”

Winry settled a bit and sniffed. “Yes, Ed, do what Al says; he’s the sensible one, after all. It’s really no wonder everyone takes him for the older brother.”

Ed growled around his sandwich, not appreciating the reminder that that _still_ happened.

“So, is it only going to be your name up on the sign, Al?” Winry asked around a slice of apple.

Initially, of course, both brothers had planned to advertise for clients.

“Looks like it,” Al agreed. “Alphonse Elric, Alchemist, and Winry Rockbell, Automail Mechanic.”

Winry’s starry eyes made it clear that she was momentarily distracted from teasing by thoughts of the small nest-egg her grandmother had given her, and the vote of confidence implied by it when Winry had said she wanted to come to Central City with the Elric brothers. Happy memories contemplated, though, she turned back to Ed. “I don’t know why you’re doing this, Ed, I know for a fact the money doesn’t mean a thing to you.”

Ed heaved an extravagant sigh and ran through his reasoning for a second time. Fortunately, Winry didn’t know him quite as well as Al and didn’t question him, though her eyes darkened a bit when Mustang’s name came up.

“That bites,” she opined bluntly. “But if that’s the way it is, I suppose there’s no help for it. At least there are two of us to look after you, now.”

Al smiled at this declaration of alliance.

Ed groaned.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone starts to see the shape of the future.

The Elrics had often been welcome guests at the Hughes residence, and since they had moved to Central their visits had come more frequently.

Often around dinner time.

It was not unusual for them to encounter Roy there, much to Gracia’s amusement. Their current visit was no exception on either of those counts. This particular weekend, though, Hughes and Gracia played host to a full-fledged party held for three reasons.

One, It was the middle of summer and the best time to cook and eat all kinds of messy foods outside.

Two, Fullmetal had returned from a three week trip to a small mountain town which _had_ featured a nasty feud, the participants of which were now all hospitalized much to the merriment of their neighbors.

And three, Roy Mustang had been promoted.

He and Hughes leaned on the porch rail, taking a break from the activity out in the yard. Havok and Gracia were beside the firepit, probably debating whether the marinade needed another dash of vinegar to be perfect. Fury and Farman were cornered by Armstrong, and starting to look desperate. Hawkeye and Ross were leaning against an old maple tree comparing the merits of ale versus porter; the ice chest was sitting in the shade beside them to facilitate their discussion and no one had been fool enough to challenge them for possession of it yet. Elysia had teamed up with Black Hayate to chase the Elric brothers and their housemate in energetic circles.

Elysia squealed with glee as Fullmetal turned at bay to scoop her up and toss her in the air.

“Winry-neechan! Help, help!”

Winry Rockbell had a decidedly evil smile when she was bent on mischief, Roy thought. She and Fullmetal were a good match for each other.

She obviously knew where he was ticklish, for one thing.

The entire lot of them went down in a tangle of arms and legs, and barking as Black Hayate jumped in. Fullmetal eventually extracted himself and collapsed in the shadow of the porch to catch his breath while Elysia dragged his brother and the girl off to see her new slide.

“How do you keep up with her?” Roy asked his friend.

“Most of the time I don’t,” Hughes admitted, smiling.

Elysia came galloping back to try to reclaim her errant playmate. Fullmetal staged an elaborate mock death to convince her how much she’d worn him out.

“Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be along,” he promised when she pouted mightily at him.

“Ok. Hurry, though, Ed-niisan! We’re by the flowers; here, so you remember.” She deposited a sloppy circlet of flowers on Fullmetal’s head and ran off.

Slowly, Edward lifted the flowers down and held them in his hands. His eyes darkened, stilled. Roy had seen that look often enough to know that it meant he was thinking of Nina Tucker. Those particular flowers always seemed to do it, the same ones Roy remembered from the remarkable transmutation Fullmetal had performed at his exam.

Hughes apparently knew it too, which didn’t surprise Roy at all.

“Ed-kun,” Hughes called quietly. “It’s summer. And Elysia is _my_ daughter. There’s no need to worry.”

A little of the tension left Edward’s shoulders as he turned, and he managed a small, self-deprecating smile. “Sorry. Am I that obvious?”

“Yes,” Roy answered him.

Fullmetal turned further to look at him, focusing. Roy nodded. “Be careful of that expression when you aren’t among friends.”

Fullmetal’s mouth tightened a fraction and he nodded back. When he stood, though, he paused, staring down at the flowers again. At last he turned back to bend a thoughtful eye on Roy.

“Jun… Shousho.” He was silent for a long moment, and Roy could see one question after another flickering behind his eyes. Then resolution sharpened them.

“If there were another war, a civil war, what would you do? Shousho.”

Roy didn’t know which memory of his own unguarded expressions had started Fullmetal’s train of thought, but he’d certainly hit on the source of just about all of them–that very first deployment in war. _Impressive_.

“I would stop it.”

Fullmetal met his even gaze with a searching one. Roy wasn’t sure how many of the answers inside that answer Edward found–_I’ve killed innocents, Yes I know that guilt, I’m sorry, I hate it, Whatever I have to do_–but he seemed to accept whatever he did find. He hesitated, and then tossed the flowers up to Roy before turning to go. An ambiguous gesture, Roy reflected.

“Roy,” Hughes hissed, “what are you doing?”

Roy raised a brow. Hughes frowned at him.

“For a second there he looked just like you!”

“Mm.” Roy pushed away from the rail. “I think it’s about time for another drink. What about you?”

Hazel eyes speared him before his friend agreed. Their path past the ice chest ended by the apple tree where no one would overhear them.

“So?”

Roy took a long drink and sighed. “This was his own choice, Maas, the exchange he asked for.”

“What was, Roy?”

“To learn how to play the game; to keep himself from being played.”

Maas looked sidelong at him. “To learn to be like you?” he asked softly.

“Not exactly, I wouldn’t think,” Roy smiled, but Maas shook his head.

“He’s always worked to meet you on even terms, and now he’s asked you to teach him how to do it and you agreed.” Maas took a long pull of his beer and looked out over the yard to where Winry was showing an entranced Elysia how to take apart the feet of her slide and reset them more securely. The brothers had been drafted as lifters for the effort and Edward, at least, was looking put-upon.

“You agreed,” Maas repeated, “so you must think this is the best thing for them. Why?”

Roy didn’t argue with his friend’s perception; it was invariably a lost cause. “Do you really think it would serve Edward to always rely on my protection? To not have the knowledge to protect himself? Do you think that would serve Alphonse?” He paused. “Or the Rockbell girl?”

“I wondered when she would come into this,” Maas muttered.

Roy reached up to hang the flowers on a low branch. “Edward’s guilt is for omission. Mine is somewhat more direct. I have a responsibility there.” Roy turned the bottle in his hands. “And while Fullmetal has always made his own choices, I accepted a certain responsibility there as well when I took a twelve year old child into my command.”

“He isn’t twelve any more,” Maas observed.

“Precisely.”

A slow and slightly crooked smile took over Maas’ mouth. He leaned against Roy’s shoulder for a second. “You’re too soft hearted for this business, Roy.”

“So are you,” Roy returned, allowing himself a brief, affectionate glance. “But that’s why we’re doing it, after all.”

As Hughes wandered off to distract Gracia from cooking Roy chose a path that took him past the group of youngsters now sitting by the flowerbeds and watching Elysia burn yet more of her infinite store of energy by pestering Hawkeye to show her the right way to climb trees.

“You should get out of the house more, Ed,” Winry was saying, “I know you want to spend as much time with Al as you can since you’re traveling so much, but you can be together without burying yourselves in your library.”

“I do go out,” Fullmetal pointed out carelessly, “Al and I went to the city library just yesterday.”

Roy’s mouth quirked at the fulminating look she gave him. In passing he wondered just how many books the Elrics had acquired in the half year or so since they had moved into a house with room to store them. Fullmetal _had_ been drawing on his research fund more heavily than usual.

“You said you found a nice park the other day, Winry,” Alphonse broke in, ever the peacemaker, “we could take a walk to it tomorrow, since we don’t know when Nii-san will have to leave again.”

“Not for some time,” Roy put in, behind them.

Winry jumped, and both Fullmetal and Alphonse spun around.

“Why, because you’re going to give me a heart attack and make it all beside the point?” Fullmetal snapped.

Roy gave such an unsubtle rejoinder the faint smirk it deserved. “The most meaningful trouble spots have all been… stirred. Your tasks will be here in the city for a while.”

Fullmetal snorted. “I knew you had an itemized list.”

“I never claimed otherwise.”

“Yeah, yeah. When do you want me to come in?”

“The beginning of next week will do.”

Fullmetal nodded agreement and waved a hand as if to shoo his commander away. A corner of Roy’s mouth twitched. He offered a short bow to Winry who still looked a bit wide-eyed with surprise and turned to go.

“Shousho.”

Roy looked over his shoulder to find Fullmetal’s eyes fixed on him sharply.

“Would you really?”

Roy heard the rest of the question: would he really stop another civil war. Another Winry. And because it was important for Fullmetal to understand just how much the game he was learning demanded Roy let his smooth expression slip just a bit.

“I would.” Whatever it took, whatever was necessary, even if it cost whatever was left of his soul. And the deeper answer.

_I can_.

Fullmetal relaxed again and wiggled his fingers to hurry Roy off. Roy chuckled and obliged, though he stopped in the shadow of Gracia’s lilac hedge to make sure all his edges were tucked in again.

Thus, he heard Alphonse, faintly.

“Nii-san, what’s going on?”

“Hm? What do you mean, Al?”

“For a second he looked… he looked just like you do sometimes…”

Dire silence.

“Excuse me?”

While Alphonse hedged a bit at the flat tone in his brother’s voice, Winry chipped in.

“Yeah, actually the two of you are a pretty good match, the way you argue.”

Fullmetal’s outrage turned heads all over the yard. Roy slipped away, shaking his head.

Some things really never did change.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed gets a closer look at Roy's job.

Ed rapped briskly on the door of the General’s office as he entered. “So, what’s up for today?” he asked, perching on the arm of the couch.

“Keeping tabs on everyone’s research,” the General responded without looking up. “Particularly the civilian Alchemists like yourself. I’ll start on serving Alchemists tomorrow.” He gathered up a folder and stood, gesturing Ed to come along. “The reason I’m bringing you with me is so that you can observe,” he continued.

Fair enough, Ed thought. “What am I looking for?”

The General’s faint smile roused his wariness. “The keys.”

Ed could really do without all the cryptic word-games, but they seemed to be one of the General’s favorite past-times. The man had bad hobbies. “The keys to what?” he asked with strained patience.

“At each place we visit there will be one individual at the center of the efforts there. Not always the one who controls them, but the center nevertheless. Sometimes it’s the Alchemist. Sometimes a family member. Sometimes their military sponsor. Sometimes someone else entirely. See if you can tell who it is.”

Ed grunted an acknowledgement. He had to admit, when the General finally did break down and explain he did it very well.

“Apart from that, try to be unobtrusive.” He paused to eye Ed up and down before continuing, “Well, as unobtrusive as possible.”

“It isn’t my fault I’m well known,” Ed pointed out a bit acidly, “you’re the one who sent me off on so many high-profile assignments.”

The General gave him a tolerant look. The only way he could have been any more obvious was if he had patted Ed on the head. Ed seethed.

“Not your fault, perhaps, but certainly your own doing, Fullmetal.”

Puzzling out the distinction occupied Ed all the way to the waiting car.

* * *

Ed spent the day observing, as directed. Among other things, he observed that most civilian State Alchemists deserved their bad reputation. He had never met so many money-grubbing, recognition-obsessed, amoral _flakes_ in such a short span of time before.

His _assigned_ observation did go reasonably well, however.

He spotted immediately that the man researching metal fusions was working to the direction of his research assistant, who was not himself an alchemist. He correctly guessed that the woman dealing with genetic alterations that might breed true actually answered to no one but herself, and also that the way to handle her would be to play on her pride.

He even got the one he thought must have been a trick question, a suspicion more or less confirmed by the General’s gleaming smile when he admitted that he was, himself, the key for the very old man who researched nothing but how to refine the shapes of alchemical arrays.

“He disliked the former head of Research quite a bit,” was the General’s comment.

Considering how Ed had felt about Gran, he found it hard to blame the man, or be surprised by his enthusiasm for the new officer in charge.

Ed was running about eighty percent accurate, by his calculations, when they arrived at one workshop to find another officer present. The General nodded to the dark man sorting nervously through a stack of papers and returned the officer’s salute.

“Worthing-san, Marsh-shousa, I trust you are both well?”

Ed hung back as pleasentries were exchanged and generalities discussed, trying to pin down the sneaking feeling that he knew this Marsh person from somewhere. Judging from the covert glances Marsh kept giving him, the feeling was mutual.

A passing reference to Gran made it click. Almost five years ago, outside Tucker’s house, Gran had been taking the Alchemist away to some anonymous fate and Ed had argued. One of Gran’s soldiers had restrained him, long enough for the gallant Brigadier General to slug Ed. A rather nondescript soldier–medium complexion, brown hair, brown eyes, square face.

It was him.

And, by the way Worthing kept glancing at Marsh before he answered any question put by Mustang-shousho, Ed would bet Marsh was the key here.

The day just got better and better, he thought, disgusted.

Finally, Marsh looked at Ed directly and essayed a probe. “A new assistant, Mustang-shousho?”

A sudden, evil thought flashed into Ed’s mind. He put on his brightest expression and stepped quickly forward before the General could answer. “Oh, it’s so fascinating to see the range of expertise and research that State Alchemists encompass, Marsh-shousa! It really makes me feel the honor of being part of such an august body.”

The General coughed behind him.

“But, really, Shousa, I’m sure yours must be the hardest job of all,” Ed burbled on, “making sure the results are delivered effectively.” Ed let an edge creep into his voice on that last bit, though he kept his bright expression innocent.

Marsh blinked.

Satisfied, Ed let the General shepherd him out the door, only looking back at the last to offer Marsh a one-sided smile.

“What,” the General wanted to know once they were back in the car, “was that about?”

“Marsh and I have met before.” Ed rubbed a hand over his stomach reminiscently. “He’s the key here, isn’t he?”

The General nodded, still giving Ed a narrow look.

“He was one of Gran’s goons when I first came to Central. Was he put to work with Worthing by Gran, before he was killed?”

The General leaned back and crossed his arms, nodding again.

“Worthing’s the one who took over work on chimera, isn’t he?” Ed sniffed. “No wonder he’s nervous, I bet he’s getting few results if any.”

“I did say you had a talent for this,” the General remarked. “Now answer my question.”

_Oh well, it was worth a try_, Ed thought resignedly.

“He was the one who held me while Gran punched me,” Ed stated baldly. “I wanted to wind him up.”

The General looked at him for a thoughtful moment before his mouth twitched.

“You want him to wonder and worry whether the now-well-connected Fullmetal Alchemist remembers and holds a grudge.”

“Yep.”

“I’m beginning to think that what you need to work on is less your technique and more your self-control,” the General sighed.

Ed made a non-commital sound as they pulled up to the next destination.

* * *

By the time they finally returned to headquarters Ed could barely put one foot in front of the other.

“How often do you do this?” he asked thinly, leaning on the wall while the General unlocked his office.

“Once a month.”

“And again for the serving Alchemists?” Ed resisted an urge to beat his head against the wall.

“You needn’t come along tomorrow,” the General told him, decoding the silent protest. “It would be just as well for that side not to see you with me too often.”

Ed heaved a sigh of relief, and watched, disbelieving, as the General went straight to his desk and started sorting out yet more work. He had an urge to tap on the man to make sure he wasn’t some sort of golem or simulacrum.

And then he saw the General sway just a bit, and put a quick hand out to support himself.

“Shousho.”

Ed looked around, startled, to see Hawkeye standing at the door beside him.

“Yes?” The General looked his normal self again as he turned, but now that Ed was looking for it he could see the tightness around Mustang’s eyes and suspect that he left his hands on the desk because they might not be completely steady.

_He did all the talking today_, Ed reflected, uneasy, _plus a post mortem of every interview in the car afterward._

Hawkeye handed over a sheaf of paper. “His Excellency wishes to speak with you, Sir.”

“Of course.” The General took the papers and walked quite steadily out of the office he’d just returned to.

Hawkeye and Ed both watched him go, Hawkeye with concern plain in her face. Ed didn’t know what his own face might say, but Hawkeye patted his shoulder as she turned to go.

“It will be all right, Edward-kun. You can trust him to allow for having had a long day.”

As Ed left headquarters the General’s words came back to him.

“_ …more your self-control_.”

It wasn’t a game Mustang was playing, for all he called it that, not if he drove himself like _this_ to succeed in it. Ed knew the face of life and death, and he’d seen it today in that momentary loss and retrieval of control.

Not a game.

Edward flushed a bit, and hunched into his coat as he stalked home.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed starts to learn to play the game.

Roy folded his hands and examined Fullmetal across them. “This errand is for my benefit, but you should find it to yours as well. I want you to accompany the civilian State Alchemist Dunning on a trip he’s making to Faufend.”

Fullmetal groaned. “Not him, he was one of the crazy ones!”

Roy ignored him. “Dunning-san has already agreed to this, as you are considerably more able to defend yourself and any companions than he is. I would appreciate it if he returned in one piece.”

Fullmetal eyed him sourly. “And?”

“And what, Fullmetal? Those are straightforward enough directions aren’t they?”

“Shousho,” Fullmetal growled. “Will you just tell me why you want me to go along with him?”

Roy smiled and picked up a folder, tapping it absently against his desktop. “Two or three years ago I would have simply sent you off and trusted nature to take its course. The comparison of then and now may shed some light, for you, on the preference many players show for pawns. Pawns are much less trouble than informed juniors, and infinitely simpler than allies or partners of any kind.”

Fullmetal’s mouth twisted very expressively.

“I’m not suggesting that you acquire such a preference, Fullmetal. Only that you remember it, and always ask the point of an action or request.”

Fullmetal thought that over and nodded. Roy handed over the folder. “I already know that Dunning is interested in the most delicate and chaotic stages of the transmutation process. This is what I have on his research thus far. It doesn’t seem to have a purpose. I want to know the purpose.”

Fullmetal leafed through the folder, frowning occasionally.

“In addition,” Roy continued, “this will make a good exercise in control for you. I have no doubt Dunning suspects that I know he’s concealing information. See if you can keep him from realizing what you’re doing as you try to extract that information.”

Roy half expected a protest at the implied slur on Fullmetal’s temper, but Fullmetal merely paused, mouth tightening, and nodded silently.

_Interesting_. Roy had seen such flickers of poise and self-awareness a couple times in the recent past. He was coming to the conclusion that Fullmetal’s legendary temper was less ungovernable than it was something Fullmetal had just never bothered to govern.

The young man on the other side of the desk closed the folder and regarded it for a minute without speaking. Roy waited for the calculations behind that far-away look to finish. At last Fullmetal nodded, halted, narrowed his eyes and looked up at Roy.

“So, Shousho, what’s the point of this?”

Roy smiled, slowly. “Very good, Edward-kun,” he murmured. Edward merely raised a brow, but Roy could see the pleased gleam in his eye.

Roy stood and came around the desk to lean against it while he explained. “What I’m afraid of is that Dunning is trying to develop, not some destructive alchemy, but something that will unpredictably alter whatever it’s used on.” He tilted his head at Fullmetal, inviting him to speculate on the results of such a thing.

“For the military,” Fullmetal said hesitantly, eyes troubled, “that could only be something to… cause fear.”

“Precisely,” Roy agreed. “I’m already watching who Dunning deals with so I know who’s interested in the possibility. What I need to know now is whether Dunning can actually do it. And,” he added, “whether that’s actually the goal of his research.”

Fullmetal tossed the folder back to Roy and stood. “I’ll go pack, then.”

At the door he turned back and offered Roy one of his rare salutes in parting. Roy returned it soberly, not chuckling until the door closed. It had always amused him just how pointedly Fullmetal kept to civilian courtesy with him. Both Hawkeye, who was only recently promoted to the rank that even civilian State Alchemists held de facto, and Hughes, who was not and never had been part of Fullmetal’s chain of command, had received more salutes than he had. When Edward did offer a salute to his commander it meant something.

Of course, at times what it meant was a deadly insult, but still.

Roy turned back to his work with a faint grin.

* * *

Three weeks later, Fullmetal was back in Roy’s office looking disgusted.

“Dunning is a complete airhead,” he declared. “He can’t tell solid sources from fairy tales.”

“The whole story, if you please,” Roy prompted.

“What,” Fullmetal’s tone turned silky, “the great Mustang-shousho doesn’t know already?”

Roy gave him a quelling look. “I stopped wasting resources keeping track of you when I acquired the leverage to get the whole story out of you myself. Now report.”

Fullmetal grinned, but settled back on the couch and started outlining Dunning’s activities.

“…so not only is he trying to do something morally bankrupt,” he summed up, “but he’s too incompetent to succeed. Two of the researchers he talked to are equally fixated on false leads, the only one you need to worry about is Farley. Fortunately he’s only concerned with the destructive stage and couldn’t care less about making unstable phases permanent. He’s scavenging the results of the others’ failures.”

Roy reflected, not for the first time, that Fullmetal not only had the detailed observational skills that any advanced alchemist needed, but also the rather rare ability to expand his observation to humans as well as chemicals.

“I wanted to rip his lungs out when he started going on about the beauty of pure chaos and how it could _elevate_ humans to apply it to us,” Fullmetal added, “but you said this was an exercise in control so I didn’t.”

Edward also had a cast iron ethical code, which, combined with his perspicacity, had gotten him into trouble on many occasions. It was one of the things Roy had relied on most heavily when calculating Fullmetal’s most likely course of action. He found it an appealing irony that he was now in the process of teaching Edward to be less predictable.

Roy steepled his hands and considered. He wanted to suggest something that would almost certainly be a severe distraction to his student. Unshakable ethics or not, Fullmetal was still a scholar to the bone, possessed of an obsessive drive to discovery.

Perhaps it was time, though. Edward would certainly have to learn at some point to keep his political wits about him while working on his own projects. Roy leaned forward again. “Could you do it?”

“Make the mutable phase permanent?” Fullmetal filled in.

“Yes.”

“Why?” Edward asked so promptly that Roy had to smile.

“So that I know how it works, and what to look for if and when other researchers have the same idea.” Roy tapped a finger on his desk. “You’re the only alchemist I know with both the ability to do something like this and no interest whatsoever in applying it, Fullmetal.”

Fullmetal’s gaze unfocused. When he finally spoke it was not an immediate acceptance. “Can you keep the results secure?”

Roy nodded approval of this forethought. “Yes. There are other things like this I’ve had to sequester over the years.”

“All right. I’ll do it.”

“Excellent. Let me know directly if there’s anything you need.”

Fullmetal agreed in a distracted manner and wandered out of the office as if he didn’t quite see the walls around him. _A complete alteration of focus,_ Roy gauged. Well, if Fullmetal hadn’t recovered by tomorrow Roy would remind him then.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed learns the price that playing can cost.
> 
> Warning: The heavy angst and violence are in this chapter.

Ed chewed on the end of his pen and reached without looking for a book he’d set aside earlier. His hand patted empty air, empty table, a larger book…

“Here, Nii-san.”

The book dropped into Ed’s hand and he looked up to see Al standing beside their library table, bought when they couldn’t find a desk big enough, and looking at him with affectionate amusement.

“Thanks, Al,” Ed mumbled around the pen.

“You’ve nearly lived in here for days, Nii-san,” Al pointed out, concern shading his eyes. “Do you… want some help?”

The glow of gratitude made Ed feel like clouds had lifted after a rainy day. Al’s methodical approach always helped him ground his own more scattershot intuition.

“I didn’t want to take you away from your work, but if you have some spare time…”

“Don’t be silly,” Al admonished him, pulling up a chair. “I don’t have very many clients yet, and I’ll always have time to help you.”

Ed softened and reached over to lay his left hand on Al’s arm. “Thanks.”

For all the difference in their appearances, their smiles were identical.

“So,” Al settled to business, “what are you working on?”

Ed leaned back with a sigh.

“It isn’t pretty,” he warned. “And the explanation will sound really strange, too,” he added after due consideration.

“Anything else would worry me,” Al assured him, straight-faced.

Ed ignored that and gave his brother a quick synopsis of how he had come by his new project. Al nodded and frowned, and finally just sat with his chin in his hands looking inward and contemplative. Ed had quickly learned, or perhaps relearned, that this was Al’s version of deep concentration, the parallel of what he’d been told was his own hazy and far-away look when caught up in a thought.

“Do you trust Mustang-shousho to keep this hidden?” Al asked eventually.

“Yes,” Ed answered at once, and then had to stop and think how to explain that trust to his brother. “It isn’t that I don’t think he’ll use any advantage to hand, because I know he will. And I know I’m one of those advantages, and he probably counts you as a part of that. But the promotions he’s working for have a point. I don’t know what it is yet, but I know it includes the power to keep things like this out of military hands _without_ all of this shuffling around.”

Al was looking at him with the disconcerting sharpness his brother rarely showed openly. “He’s teaching you to do that, isn’t he?” he asked quietly.

Ed blinked, genuinely nonplused. “Do what?”

“To see things like that and use them. I mean, you’ve always seen, Nii-san, but…” Al trailed off, looked down at the table.

“Hm,” Ed half laughed. “You too, little brother.”

Al glanced back up with a sudden, rueful smile. Ed clasped his hand tight.

“You said to be careful, Al, and I am. I promise.”

Al accepted that, relaxing and reaching his free hand for Ed’s notes. “Let me see what you’ve got so far.”

* * *

A few hours later Ed was about ready to take their bookshelves apart plank by plank.

“I know I had it here just the other month, where did it _go_?” he growled, sprawled on the floor to look under the shelves.

“What are you looking for, Nii-san?” Al called.

“Ruland’s lexicon. There’s some nomenclature I want to check.” Ed peered under another shelf.

“Wasn’t that one we got from the National library?”

Ed froze and then lowered his head to the floor with a thump. “I’m an idiot,” he muttered. He hauled himself upright and stretched. “We also wanted some of the Vaughn texts, didn’t we? I may as well go get them all now.”

“All right. Try not to get _too_ distracted browsing, Nii-san,” Al told him with a smile.

Ed ruffled his brother’s hair in an attempt not to look shifty. “Of course. Be right back.”

He could hear Al laughing as he fetched his boots.

* * *

It might, Ed reflected later, have been better if he had done as Al said and come right back with the books. But he didn’t, and Major Morland found him while he was wondering whether Hollandus would be of any use.

“Ah, Elric-san, I’ve been hoping I might run into you.”

“Hm?” It took a moment for Ed’s mind to return from Hollandus’ accounts of Taste and recognize the man in front of him as one of the officers he sometimes saw in the General’s orbit. “Ah, Morland-shousa, was there something you needed?”

“Actually, it was about something I was just looking for,” Morland gestured to the shelves around them. “I was looking for the report on your visit to Zenotime, what, two years ago? But only about a third of it seems to be archived. I don’t suppose you have a spare copy tucked away?”

“I don’t,” Ed answered indifferently. As far as he was concerned reports were only good for hamster bedding. “I’m sure Mustang-shousho has a full copy, though.”

Morland gave him a tight smile. “I’m sure. Mustang-shousho is very thorough about such things. But he’s out of his office today and I had hoped to take a look at the report before I’m overwhelmed with my own paperwork again.”

For one echoing moment of time Ed only thought it odd that Morland would not know that the General was, in fact, in; Ed had gotten a note that he would be in all week and Ed should just drop by if he got any promising results.

And then something in Morland’s expression clicked.

He remembered the General saying it would be better if the military personnel didn’t see them in company too often. Morland didn’t know how much more aware of the General’s movements Ed was these days. He didn’t know Ed had any way of catching the lie.

He wanted the report from Zenotime without the General’s knowledge.

The _full_ report.

“Is he out today?” Ed asked, trying to look only surprised instead of in shock. “Well, then I guess there’s no point in my stopping at the office. Thanks for telling me. Sorry I couldn’t help you.”

“Oh, it’s not a big deal,” Morland waved it off. “Good luck with your research, Elric-san.”

After Morland left him Ed leaned against the shelves for a few minutes, trying to breathe evenly.

And then he bundled up his books and walked as quickly and quietly as he could to Mustang’s office.

* * *

Ed closed the office door behind him and leaned against it. “Shousho?”

“Results already?” the General asked, surprised. “That’s impressive even for you.”

Ed swallowed twice before he managed to speak. “Different results.”

The General frowned, taking in his expression, which Ed had finally allowed to go blank and frozen. He stood up and came to steer Ed away from the door to the couch.

“Sit down.” And, when Ed was seated, “Now, what happened?”

Haltingly, Ed recounted his conversation with Morland. “The full report, the details of the process Magwar wanted to use,” Ed said softly to his clasped hands. “Shousho…”

“I see.”

Ed looked up to see Mustang standing with his head lowered.

“I will take care of it, Fullmetal.”

“How?” Ed asked, his brain starting to work again. “Morland’s immediate superior is Lake-chuujo, if he asks for the report…”

Ed broke off sharply as Mustang raised his head. He had never seen such a cold look in the General’s eyes.

“If Lake has not yet heard of the possibility, then it need only involve Morland.” The words seemed to be pulled out of the General on barbs.

“Morland has supported you,” Ed whispered, starting to see the shape of something terrifying.

“He has. And while that allowed him to learn the edges of the secrets he wants to know the whole of, it also involved him in things no loyal officer should have done.”

“Treason…?” He read the answer in those chill black eyes. Ed felt as though he was suffocating. “How… can you… “

“Do you truly want to know the answer to that, Fullmetal?” the General asked, deathly quiet.

The General had deliberately allowed Ed to see what he intended to do, Ed realized, in order to present this choice with the most brutal possible clarity. He had educated Ed more gently than Ed had realized until this moment, letting Ed see the manipulation as an intricate puzzle and sheltering him from most of the consequences of solving it.

“I don’t… I…,” he stammered.

“Think about it,” the General directed, looking away.

Released, Ed fled the office.

* * *

Ed closed the book he had been reading and checked the clock. “I need to get going.”

“Nii-san,” Al looked up with a frown.

Ed shook his head. “I need to go, Al.”

Al looked extremely un-sanguine. Still, that was an improvement over what he’d looked like a little over two weeks ago when Ed had come home and curled up in a ball in his room for hours, shaking. Al had discerned, quickly enough, at least one part of the cause and Ed had had to rouse himself in order to prevent Al storming the General’s office to demand an accounting.

Ed wasn’t at all sure he’d succeeded in communicating just what had shaken him so badly. He suspected that Al thought his current errand was needless self-flagellation, just Ed being oversensitive to his part in something that was really the General’s doing.

He thought Winry might have understood a little better. At any rate, she had refrained from death threats against his commander, and hadn’t argued when Hughes brought Ed the results of the court martial and Ed insisted on seeing the sentence carried out.

She was waiting for him by the door.

“Ed,” she told him, low, as he reached for the doorknob, “it’s all right if you can’t do everything.”

Yes, he rather thought she _did_ understand. “I need to know whether I can or not, though.”

She accepted that with only a slight darkening of her eyes from sky to steel blue. But she seized him for an unexpected hug before striding off toward her workshop, back straight.

Hughes, after a single sharp look, had told Ed where to go, so he didn’t have to speak to anyone as he made his way through the headquarters complex to a small courtyard out of the way of anything. He was grateful for that.

_Could_ he do this part of what the General did? Did he want Mustang to teach him this? Ed hoped to know soon. Sixteen days of wondering had done things to his appetite and sleep patterns that Al didn’t approve of at all.

He stopped in the shadows of the courtyard, next to the General. Neither of them looked at the other.

A line of soldiers filed out into the sunshine, followed by two more escorting Morland between them. Ed felt a twinge of shame at how relieved he was when they blindfolded him, and Ed knew Morland couldn’t see either Ed or the General standing witness.

When the guns fired Ed jerked and spun around to lean his head against the cool brick behind him, choking.

_Is it better than pregnant women killed and their babies turned into inferior Stones?_ he asked himself, desperately.

And, as if all it had taken was that one trick of phrasing, he knew his answer.

_Yes._

He turned back to watch the body being carried away, and still had to support himself against the wall as he shuddered, but the answer in his heart didn’t change.

“Are you going to be all right?”

The General did not ask, Ed noted, whether he was all right just at the moment.

“Yes,” he answered, still a little strangled. “I’ll… I’ll be in tomorrow.”

For the last two and some weeks, Ed hadn’t set foot in headquarters. Al had fetched books they needed from the National library.

The General’s hand closed on his shoulder. “Look at me.”

Ed turned and looked Mustang in the eye. What he saw there stopped his breath like a punch to the stomach. Pain. Guilt. Helpless rage. It tore a response from Ed. “Necessary,” he got out. “It was better than what would have been.”

“It was,” Mustang agreed, in a voice like broken glass. “But that never makes it easier or less terrible, or lessens the responsibility.”

“I… I see that.” And Ed did see it, in Mustang’s face.

“As long as you do. It’s your choice.” Mustang let him go and turned away.

_How long has he been doing this_, Ed wondered as he made his slightly unsteady way home. _How many times?_

Al and Winry were waiting for him when he got back. They took one look and tucked him up on the couch with a cup of tea and one of them to each side. Ed let the weight of the mug steady his hands.

Remembering Al’s fury with Mustang, the first words out of Ed’s mouth were, “He’s been doing this for us all along.”

“What do you mean, Ed?” Winry asked.

“He’s been making these decisions all this time, making these choices so we wouldn’t have to.”

“He’s been using you all this time to give him the power to make the decisions,” Al said, voice harsh as even his brother rarely heard it.

“Yes,” Ed agreed. “And it would be easy to keep on that way; to let him keep sheltering us. But he agreed to show me the way to stop being used. And… someone has to choose. And I want it to be me.”

“Why?” Winry wanted to know. “If you have to make choices like this…”

Ed was silent for a moment. “What do alchemists do?” he asked at last.

Winry blinked at this apparent non sequitur, but Al understood. “Alchemists work for the good of all,” he recited, eyes shadowed.

Ed nodded, straightening just a bit.

“Can you do it?” Winry’s question recalled what she had said as he left.

Ed looked at her soberly. “Yes.”

Winry read his eyes for a long moment before nodding and putting her arms around him. Ed turned to Al, who already wore a tiny smile, and knew his brother had accepted Winry’s judgment on this. Al also wrapped an arm around Ed’s shoulders.

“Let us know if we can help, Nii-san. All right?”

Ed leaned his head against Al’s. “I promised, little brother. I will.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed's lessons turn to manipulation.

Roy sipped his cooling coffee, reaching absently for the next report on his desk.

Most of his thoughts this morning were taken up with Edward.

He had half expected Edward not to return after Morland’s execution, but he had. And, while he had often seemed troubled or hesitant about the machinations and politics that Roy showed him and dissected with him, he had insisted that he wanted to know everything. So Roy had taken him to meetings and reviews, given him reports to read, told him what people weren’t saying or talked around until Edward started to see it for himself.

Initially Edward’s hesitance to use what he saw had concerned Roy, but as time went on and Edward threw himself into his “studies”, he had started to swing the other way. For the most part Roy was not terribly alarmed; he had seen Edward spar with his brother, and knew that he could enjoy the form of something whose full expression he used only rarely and with care. Still. It would be good to be sure.

Roy paused, with his cup halfway to his mouth, as a sentence in the report he was scanning sprang out at him.

_Hm_. Not, of course, that anyone would be foolish enough to…

A slow smile crept over Roy’s face. He reached for a sheet of paper and an envelope, the latter of which he addressed to Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

Roy was, very deliberately, seated on the corner of Hawkeye’s desk when Edward came storming into the office, presumably having just failed to find Roy in his own office. An audience would be helpful for today’s exercise.

“What is this?” Edward demanded, brandishing a letter.

“It appears to be a letter, Fullmetal. Have your reading skills deserted you?” Roy inquired solicitously.

His staff, taking warning from the opening salvo, edged back.

Edward bared his teeth. Roy could almost see the howl of _Quit trying to piss me off!_ trying to beat through them, but Edward never, ever asked Roy to go any easier on him. Today was no exception, and Roy mentally saluted the woman who had taught the Elric brothers alchemy. If nothing else, she had left Edward with an appreciation of how a hard training regimen could benefit him if he applied himself.

“You want _me_,” Edward growled, “to go chasing after _her_?” he waved the letter.

“Do you wish to debate the orders of your commander, Fullmetal?” Roy asked coolly.

This was the easy part. Edward knew a challenge when he saw one, no matter the context. Roy watched the first reflex straightening of his spine, saw his eyes widen as he took in the actual wording of Roy’s challenge, saw them narrow and watched Edward’s mouth curve up in a scimitar smile.

“It’s a waste of resources,” Edward declared.

Roy nodded approval for a good opening position.

“It’s obviously possible to capture her with less than my abilities, since it’s been done once already. Surely you don’t want me to be tied up with something trivial when a more serious matter comes up.”

Roy liked that _when_; far stronger than _if_.

“It’s been done before, to be sure,” he returned, “but not anywhere near as efficiently. A genuinely thoughtful distribution of resources arrives at you as the best solution.”

“Besides,” he added, examining his nails, “the note she left in her cell mentioned you by name.”

Edward, mouth open for the next volley, made a small _erk!_ and looked at Roy wide-eyed. _She didn’t really?_ his expression asked.

Roy shrugged and smirked faintly: _I’m not telling._

Edward gave him a dirty look before collecting himself. “If she’s expecting me, it isn’t very good tactics to send me after her. All her preparations will be geared toward me. A different pursuer would throw her off enough to have a substantial advantage.”

“Are you saying you need an advantage to capture one woman whose alchemy is allegedly no match for yours?” Roy asked in an insulting drawl.

Edward ignored the tone admirably. Of course, confidence in his power was never one of his weak points.

“I thought you were concerned with efficiency,” he shot back, “but maybe you’re just interested in a showy stunt that will look good on your record.”

Roy smiled–a very good return. His staff was now flat to the walls, with the exception of Hawkeye who was attempting to do her paperwork, only an occasional twitch giving away her irritation. And, since they were well into the insult stage…

“If I’m concerned with efficiency, perhaps I shouldn’t be sending you after all. She has managed to enchant every man she encounters into witlessness.” Roy paused, artfully. “Ah, but I wouldn’t be sending a man, would I? I’d be sending a little boy.”

Ed had clearly been expecting this at some point, and only scored a desk clenching his right hand rather than exploding. It would do for now.

“You’d send someone you really consider a child after a wanted criminal?” he spat back. “Bravo, Mustang-shousho, I’m sure that’s just the sort of thing sure to find favor with Dai-Soutou Bradley. Are you so sure you want to be associated with what a child might do in a dangerous situation?”

Edward had been angling for something gratifyingly subtle, there, a threat to turn the slander around and make a perfectly deliberate fiasco appear to be his commander’s fault for sending an inexperienced agent. But what he hit on the way was a far richer target. Roy knew his eyes flickered, and knew Edward saw it.

Their eyes locked, and he saw memories come together into speculation. Speculation hardened into a weapon, an accusation. _You would be that willing to have a child’s death on your hands?_ Edward took in a breath…

Caught it.

Conflict showed in his tense mouth and narrowed eyes. One breath. Two.

Roy raised a hand. “Enough.”

Edward relaxed, shaking himself, and slumped back against the file cabinets behind him.

“You saw it,” Roy stated. “Could you have used it?”

“I… it would depend,” Edward said haltingly. “This… this wasn’t important enough to use something like that.”

And now Roy relaxed, too. He knew the exhilaration of fencing like this could betray people into going further than was wise, or than they intended. But Edward had stopped himself.

“Excellent.” He laid a hand on Edward’s shoulder. “This is a form of combat like any other. Never doubt that it can be deadly, Fullmetal.”

“Yeah.” Edward swiped a hand through his hair, and looked up at Roy, eyes suddenly dancing. “So, is Psiren really on the loose again?”

“I’m afraid so, actually.”

Edward’s eyes widened. “She didn’t really leave a note…?”

“Oh, yes,” Roy said, serenely. “But, for several of the reasons mentioned, one of the female State Alchemists is being dispatched to recover her.”

Edward sagged against the cabinets muttering. The only words Roy could pick out were “…heart attack…”. He patted Edward’s shoulder and stepped back before his student started to consider the merits of physical retaliation. There were far too many flammables in the room for Roy to deal with that as expeditiously as he normally might.

A stack of folders nearly hit him in the chest.

“These will require your signature, Shousho,” Hawkeye informed him rather darkly.

In other words, _Stop making trouble and be useful!_ Roy grinned.

“Of course, Shousa.” As he strolled out he heard Hawkeye speaking to Edward.

“You look like you could use a drink.”

“I’m underage, Shousa,” Edward pointed out, with a hint of longing in his voice all the same.

“You look like you could use one anyway,” Hawkeye said, and more quietly, “I know I could.”

Roy barely managed to make it back to his office before he burst out laughing.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed's family want him to pay attention to the rest of his life.

It was a bright morning, incongruously bright in Ed’s opinion, since he was facing a dire trial today and having to muster all his endurance to withstand it.

He was shopping.

With Winry.

She had declared that he was spending too much time indoors and was about to turn into a mushroom. When Ed pointed out very reasonably that that was one of her grandmother’s lines, she had punched his shoulder hard enough to send his chair over backwards. Realizing that his friend and housemate was in an unstable frame of mind, Ed had chosen to humor her in hopes her sanity might return before too long.

Forlorn hope.

When she dragged him out the door he had thought they might at least go shop for _reasonable_ things, like a supply of screws in thirty-one sizes or a new lathe. But no.

They were shopping for _clothes_.

Ed was deeply disappointed in Winry; she had always _seemed_ so sensible.

Of course, they weren’t shopping for clothes for her.

“Oh, Ed, here, try this one on!”

Ed looked at the brilliant blue pull-over in silent horror. “You’re joking, right?” he asked at last.

Winry put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “What? It doesn’t have puffy sleeves, it doesn’t have anything glittery, and it doesn’t have dancing animals on it anywhere, what are you complaining about now?” Her eyes softened in reminiscence. “Those rats were cute; it would have looked good.”

Ed buried his face in his hands with a pitiful moan. He was sure he heard a muffled snicker from the hovering attendant.

“Winry, I’ll say this one last time, and track me this time, I am not wearing anything like that. I’ll look like a complete twit! I am not making a spectacle of myself just because you miss dressing up dolls!”

“No, you like making a spectacle of yourself by acts of ’secret’ altruism so obvious you might as well hang out a flashing sign,” Winry riposted with the devastating accuracy of someone who’d known him since he was one.

“The _point_,” Ed gritted through his teeth, “is that I like what I usually wear.”

“You only ever wear black,” Winry complained, “it’s boring. The only way anyone can tell whether you even changed since yesterday is to sniff you.”

Ed attempted to ignore the choking noises now coming from the attendant. “I like black,” he said firmly. “It’s simple and easy and I don’t have to think about it.”

“Excuse me, Madam, Sir,” the attendant intervened tactfully, “but if you prefer a classic look perhaps you would care for the selection over here.” She led them through an archway and into a different room.

Ed looked around, a bit reassured. At least there weren’t any colors that made his eyes ache in here. He muttered thanks to the attendant, who faded discretely back, only her sparkling eyes giving away her amusement.

“I don’t know why you dragged me on this trip, anyway,” Ed grumbled as Winry started browsing. “Al likes variety in his wardrobe, you should take him along.”

“Al doesn’t need any help with his wardrobe. And besides,” Winry seemed fascinated with a pile of sweaters, “he has better dress sense than I do.”

About to get some of his own back with an admission like that, Ed paused and took a second look at Winry’s expression. _Hm_. Maybe Ed wasn’t so much a torture victim here as a practice run? He concealed a smile.

“Tell you what, Winry,” he offered casually, glancing around, “I’ll agree to try some of this on if you will too. There are women’s styles in here, right?” he called to the attendant, cutting across whatever Winry had opened her mouth to say.

“Oh, yes, Sir. Just over here. I’m sure we have something that would suit Madam very well.” Anna, according to the small badge that Ed finally got a look at, led them a few racks over, clearly enjoying the little drama immensely.

“Oh, but…” Winry half protested.

“Exchange,” Ed pronounced with great finality.

Anna, if no one else, had a wonderful afternoon. Ed was glad someone did. After extensive negotiation he ended up with several button-down shirts (black); one pair of tailored pants, and only one because he refused to stand still for two fittings (also black); and a handful of sleeveless pull-overs (black!). Winry carried off a long-sleeved dress (blue); two snug, low-necked cotton shirts (different blue); and a jumpsuit that looked a lot like a classier version of her work overalls (dark rose, very pretty, actually).

About to escape at last, Ed paused by a stack of coats. “Now there’s something I actually kind of need,” he murmured, fingering a sleeve.

“New coat?” Winry asked, trying to keep her bags from knocking anything down. “The old one is getting pretty worn out; you’ve had it longer than most haven’t you?”

“Headquarters life is easier on the clothes.”

“Oh, Ed,” Winry breathed.

He winced, wary of that tone after the day he’d had.

“Look at this one.” Winry pulled a long coat away from the others and held it out.

Ed’s first thought was _It isn’t red_, but it did look comfortable and that was a major point. He pulled it on and shrugged to settle it.

“It suits you very well, Sir,” Anna told him.

Ed glanced at one of the mirrors lining the shop walls. This coat seemed to have more fabric than his old one, but it also looked like it hung closer to his body. Clearly, tailoring was some kind of arcane art that defied the laws of modern science.

He brushed his hand down the white fabric. _It’ll do_.

He and Winry carted their haul home.

“Now will you let me back in the library?” Ed asked as they maneuvered the bags through the front door.

“I guess so,” Winry allowed in a lofty tone. “Until dinner, at least.”

Ed glared.

“I’ll take all the bags upstairs and put them away if you come out for dinner,” Winry offered.

Ed figured that was the best deal he was going to get. He had his doubts about whether anything actually got put away, though, because when he went to look for the new coat it was nowhere to be found. He figured it had ended up in Winry’s bags, probably stuffed in the back of her closet.

He thought that for three days.

On the third day, Winry walked into his room with an armful of white.

“Um. Here. It’s something… Well, here.” She handed him the coat.

As it unfolded Ed saw a flash of red. Shaking it out he found, appliqued on the back, his favorite symbol.

“There was a lot of good material left to the old coat, and it seemed a shame to waste it,” Winry said, sounding nervous. “Um. It’ll be easy to take off, if you don’t like it. It just seemed…” She trailed off, chewing her lip.

“Are you sure you haven’t been reading the alchemy books?” Ed asked softly, tracing his fingers over the cross, the serpent, the crown. _Still the red, still the perfection; that’s always what we’re seeking. But not so that it completely encompasses my life any more. Now… I’m learning how to move through _all_ the potentialities._

“What?” Winry blinked.

“It’s perfect.” Ed looked up at her. “Thank you.”

She relaxed and smiled back. “Good. Well, then, I made these too, while I was at it.” She held out a handful of red cloth ribbons. “You go through hair-ties faster than anyone else I know.”

Accepting them Ed noticed the symbol again, in black this time, stitched into the ends. He grinned up at Winry. “So, you’ll do fancy work for the fun of it, but won’t patch your own overalls…”

Winry swatted at him.

* * *

What _was_ it about women and changing the way a person looked?

Al had decided that they should have the Hughes family over for dinner. Well and good, Ed was perfectly happy for his brother to show off his cooking skills. It was even a rather nice and cozy feeling to have guests in their house.

Elysia had begged for Winry to show her the workshop. Winry had let her use the second-best wrenches to disassemble a dead motor. Even better. It meant that the small perpetual motion machine was completely occupied, a rare thing.

But Ed had forgotten that he had been in a hurry this morning and had simply scraped his hair back rather than braid it properly. Hughes noticed. Of course. Hughes noticed everything.

He also drew Gracia-san’s attention to it.

Less good. Moderately embarrassing, in fact.

“New hairstyle, Ed-kun?” Hughes ribbed him. “Going for the distracted-scholar look so the girls will chase after you and save you the trouble? Good plan, good plan! I bet you’ll get any girl you set your sights on. Except my daughter, of course.”

Ed didn’t touch that last bit. There was nothing remotely safe that he could possibly say. “It’s just easier,” he muttered.

Gracia-san looked thoughtful. “It is very becoming, though, Edward-kun. Of course, it would be more so if it were a little smoother.”

Ed bit back a protest as she produced a comb from her purse and started combing his hair back and up. If it had been anyone else he would have pulled away, but Gracia-san’s hands were… motherly. Gentle and brisk at the same time.

He remembered his mother brushing his hair like this.

He sat quiet until he felt the tug as she re-tied the ribbon snuggly and patted his head. “There.” She turned him to face her. “Yes, that looks very handsome.”

Ed fought down a blush, and glanced sidelong at Al and Winry half expecting them to be muffling laughter. Instead they had nearly identical expressions of soft-eyed memory. He had a feeling he’d looked much the same while his hair was being fixed. They didn’t say anything, though.

They didn’t say anything the next morning, either, when Ed came to breakfast with his hair drawn back in a high tail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of Ed wearing his hair up like this as he gets older originated with [Sakki's drawings](http://4.neutralred.org/) of an adult Ed with a very long high pony-tail. Glorious image.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy starts to notice Ed growing up.

Edward Elric had invaded Roy’s house.

More precisely, Roy’s library.

Roy supposed he should have expected it. Edward’s argument that, since Roy was the one who wanted the current research project, he had a responsibility to contribute his own materials to its success was a cogent one.

Edward really was getting quite good at that.

And, since he had no intention of allowing Ed free run of his library without him present, he found himself spending several long evenings in his favorite armchair watching while Edward buried the small couch under piles of books.

It was actually fascinating to watch. It had been years since Roy had been able to concentrate on research for any extended period; he had almost forgotten what it felt like to devote that intense focus to books instead of people. The completeness with which Edward immersed himself in study reminded Roy forcibly of his first few years as an officer, when his books had been a familiar shelter that could soothe away the stress and frustration of dealing with intractable humans. Ed was intensely businesslike about this project, and yet far more relaxed than Roy usually saw him.

The first thing he did upon arriving was kick off his boots into a corner, and it wasn’t long before any overshirt or sweater he might start out with followed, tossed over the back of the couch. Edward also had a habit of whole-body fidgeting as he read, sprawling on his stomach, throwing his feet over the couch back, changing position every ten minutes at least.

When Roy had pointed this out to him, Ed claimed that it was because Roy didn’t have a proper desk or table in his library, and that Edward only did this when stuck with inferior furniture to organize his books and findings on.

Roy replied that it was the sign of an insufficiently organized mind to require such a crutch.

Edward threw a pen at him and buried himself in Forman again. Five minutes later he patted the cushions looking for his pen and merely thanked Roy, distractedly, when Roy handed it back.

It was, in other ways, extremely painful to watch, a reminder of what Roy had given up when he chose to keep his commission rather than work as a civilian Alchemist. He had put it out of his mind, fairly successfully, how much he missed the pure research. Now he tasted that again, knowing it could only be a fleeting return, and the cutting edge of that thought stopped his breath if he didn’t push it back down fast enough.

He resolved, once again, to dissuade Edward from following Roy’s own path too closely, should Edward ever lose his mind sufficiently to consider it. Roy didn’t think he would, but then he hadn’t expected the exchange that Edward had asked in return for continuing to serve Roy’s ends either.

If it hadn’t been for those ends, for the faint hope that he could succeed in them, these three days might have convinced Roy to resign his commission and return to work he truly loved.

He rather thought Edward would throw a fit of epic proportions if he ever realized the extent to which the same three days engaged Roy’s protective instincts on his behalf. Roy had never met anyone quite so fiercely independent.

Watching Ed work also clarified for Roy just why Edward had been able to rein in his temper so fast once he had a reason to do so. While he worked, Edward’s fire and flamboyance were channeled, honed to an edge that would shame a razor. When they had occasion to debate interpretations, which happened frequently, Edward did so with a ferocity and speed and focused force that delighted Roy, sometimes even provoked him to open laughter.

Edward’s life had given him an emotional maturity beyond his years in some ways, while stunting him in others, Roy was very sure. It was only these last two years, with his brother restored and their friend, the Rockbell girl, to help, that Ed was gaining any experience of the stability that might let him survive a normal life. Should he ever stumble across one.

His mind, though, had always leaped beyond. Roy had counted on Edward’s power, ever since he had first found the boy, but he had always regarded it as something a little apart from the person Edward was. He had considered Ed’s mind sharp but unformed; his intuition accurate and valuable, but not entirely reliable. Now, watching the driving brilliance of Edward’s understanding, Roy found admiration stirring in him.

Maas was right, Roy reflected. Edward wasn’t that boy anymore.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed has his first real-life exercise.

“I have clients today, Nii-san, so I can’t help with the project report until afternoon. I’m sorry,” Al told Ed at breakfast.

Ed waved away the apology. “Don’t worry,” he said a bit indistinctly around his toast, “I’m just putting the last touches on it before I drop it off.” He chewed and thought. “Clients, hm? Do you mind if I drop in, then? It’s been a while since I had a good chance to watch your work.”

Al gave him a bright smile. “Not at all! Though I doubt I’ll have anything very impressive to do today.”

“Not very impressive. Hmp,” Ed muttered to himself as they all parted ways to their respective work. He never could convince Al that his technical acumen far exceeded Ed’s own, or that his precision was impressive in and of itself. Watching Al’s work always gave Ed a proud-big-brother glow.

So, once he had made all the revisions to his report that he could stand, he tossed it in a folder to take to Mustang later and took himself off to the sun porch that had become Al’s office.

The room was neat and full of light, tastefully furnished and decorated in soft colors, and very much like his brother.

“…no, it’s better to transmute the metal before the parts are assembled,” Al was saying to his client, a somewhat befuddled looking man in a brown suit. “Sometimes fusion does occur, if there are unpredictable elements, which your alloy has a few of. As long as the parts are all machined properly, the greater density after transmutation shouldn’t be a problem for assembly.”

_My brother is a genius_, Ed thought, fondly. At moments like this he had a bit more sympathy for Hughes and his constant burbling over his daughter.

“I see. I think. Yes, that makes sense, Elric-san,” the client said.

“Good.” Al jotted something down before looking up to spy Ed leaning in the doorway. “Nii-san! You came down at a good time. Bower-san’s metallurgy projects are just fascinating, and he was mentioning that he’d like to see if you were interested in some of it.”

Bower turned, and stood quickly. “Edward Elric-san? So pleased, so pleased! I’ve been wanting to meet you for some time, actually.”

Ed shook hands briefly and raised a brow at his brother. Al ducked his head just a little and grinned. Which meant this Bower person had probably been enthusing about the famous Edward Elric and Al had decided to kill two birds with one stone: boost his brother’s morale while he was bogged down in report revision, and make his client more malleable for having met Ed.

Ed rather hoped that Mustang never managed to completely win over Al, because if those two joined forces the world would be doomed.

“Really?” Ed answered Bower, smile only a bit toothy.

“Oh, yes,” Bower said, earnestly. “I truly admire your courage of convictions, Elric-san, the way you act for the common people even while bound to the military.”

_Eh?_ It had been a while since Ed had done anything… flashy in that way, and he’d thought the rumor mill had calmed down a bit.

“It must be very frustrating for someone like yourself, having to deal with such an autocratic system,” Bower continued. “I know there are other people in my company who appreciate what it must take to work counter to the military’s orders.”

Ed was getting a bad feeling about this.

“So, yes, we were wondering if you would be interested in taking a bit of work for us…” Bower trailed off suggestively.

Ed froze. _That didn’t take long at all, did it?_

And then his eyes narrowed and he advanced on Bower.

“Take a bit of work for you?” he repeated, voice low and cold. “For people who would use my brother as a lever to get to me? Who would use _me_ as their tool to defy the State and then throw me away when it all came down on _my_ head?”

Bower’s mouth flapped. Ed leaned towards him and Bower leaned back.

“The only kind of work I would take in relation to you is destruction,” he stated, toneless. “Now get out.”

Bower fled.

“Nii-san?” Al whispered.

“Al, I’m sorry,” Ed said without looking up.

“Was that really…?”

Ed nodded. A rather horrible thought occurred to him, and he whirled to grab his brother’s shoulders. “Al, have there been any other clients who asked about me like that?”

Al, wide-eyed, thought for a moment. “No. Just him.”

Ed breathed a sigh of relief. Just Bower.

“Nii-san, you really think he was working for someone trying to… to suborn you?”

“I don’t know. But I can find out. I’ll be back in an hour or so, I think.” Ed hesitated. Al looked… stricken. “Al, are you all right?”

His brother summoned a smile for him and patted his hands. “Of course.”

* * *

Ed barely bothered to knock on his way through Mustang’s office door. “Shousho. You know what you said about there being a great many fools in this world? Well the first one just arrived.”

Mustang gestured for him to shut the door and sat, hands folded, listening while Ed paced the office and recounted the conversation with Bower. When Ed was done he rested his chin on his hands, looking calculating.

“A good beginning,” he pronounced.

Ed, used by now to Mustang’s patterns of thought, understood that this was a comment on his own performance. He stopped pacing and slumped down on the arm of the couch.

“You can damn with faint praise better than anyone else I know,” he remarked, raking a hand through his hair.

“I didn’t entirely mean it that way, Edward-kun.”

_And again_. Ed gave Mustang a jaundiced look, and Mustang’s mouth quirked. “Just tell me,” Ed sighed.

“You are always most… extreme in defense of your brother,” Mustang noted. “I’m somewhat impressed you didn’t throw the man bodily off the roof. Greater subtlety in these affairs is never misplaced, however. The most important thing to remember is never to show all of your strength and knowledge until it’s absolutely necessary.”

Ed thought about the confrontation. “I don’t think I did,” he said, slowly.

“Indeed you didn’t,” Mustang agreed, “which is why I said it was a good beginning. However, as you did not already know whether Bower was working alone or as part of a larger group, there is the possibility that you left yourself open to retaliation or more direct things, like blackmail, from parties you have no easy way of tracing now that they’re warned.”

Ed winced.

“Relax, Edward-kun. I’m familiar with Bower, and can assure you he’s currently working alone on his various seditious little projects. And, dealing with a single scavenger like that, it is, in fact, the best policy to chase them off with a quick show of strength if there’s nothing you need from them.”

“So I got it right by luck,” Ed grumbled.

“I have noticed before that your luck, both good and bad, is generally stupendous,” Mustang allowed, dryly.

Ed leaned an elbow on the back of the couch and pursed his lips. “So, if I don’t know one way or the other, I suppose the best thing would be to string them along, drop a few hints that I might be interested if I could talk to the person in charge, ask what would be in it for me, find out what they know.”

“Precisely.” Mustang lowered his hands and gave Ed a faint smile. “You show a great deal of promise in this field, Edward-kun.”

“Mm.” Ed glanced aside ordering himself to not _blush_, damn it.

Three or four years ago he would rather have died, or at least would rather have eaten Winry’s cooking, than admit that Roy’s approval mattered in any way to him. Now…

He would admit it to himself, he supposed.

Sometimes.

“I’d better get back before Al starts worrying,” Ed said, rising. “I’ll bring the research report by tomorrow, it’s finished.”

“Excellent,” Roy told him. “Then you can start reading the reports Hughes gives me about the sort of people who may have an interest in you or your brother. I’ll trade you the first volume for your report.”

“Thrilling,” Ed groaned, and trudged out of the office in a far lighter frame of mind than the one he’d entered with.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and Roy continue on their way to a partnership.

Long experience kept the pain behind Roy’s eyes from showing as anything more than a small tenseness in hands and mouth. He was grateful that Edward seemed to have his own reasons for staying quiet as they made their way back from the office block Marsh worked in.

He’d been willing enough to leave the man in place, to start with. Few people knew better than Roy the futility of reproducing Tucker’s results without using his means, which both Marsh and Worthing fortunately knew better than to contemplate. It kept Marsh out of the way without any appearance of a grudge against an officer of the former head of Research. He was starting to get out of hand, though, making the first steps toward a power-network of his own among some of the civilian State Alchemists, and Roy couldn’t afford the interference.

He would have to move Marsh out of the way somehow.

Particularly since he seemed to have decided that Edward must hold a grudge after all and that preemptive action was called for. Roy sighed soundlessly as they returned to his office and deposited the various paperwork and notes they had collected over the day.

“Shousho? Are you all right?”

Roy raised a brow at his protege. “Of course.”

Edward looked less than convinced and… concerned?

“You look considerably worse for the wear, Edward-kun, I should be asking you that question,” Roy added to distract him.

It was certainly true that Ed showed his tiredness and tension more clearly. While he dissembled very well, he was less skilled at flat concealment like that. At Roy’s remark, however, he straightened.

“I’m fine.”

It was possible that neither of them was fooling the other, though Roy hadn’t thought that Edward could read him that well. As far as he knew, only Hughes and Hawkeye could.

Though that thought suggested something. Edward was fast approaching a point where he might, if he chose, become a partner rather than a student. If Roy wished to keep Ed’s abilities in his service, which he very much did, then it was time to start expanding their working relationship into the social. With a little luck, Edward would be prepared to accept that new context when the old wore out.

“Perhaps,” Roy mused, “it would be a good time to follow Hawkeye-shousa’s example. I could certainly use a drink, Edward-kun. You?”

“I notice _you_ waited until I was legal to ask that, Shousho,” Edward observed, a smile tugging at his mouth.

“Of course,” Roy answered, loftily, “I would never dream of encouraging any of my command to do anything illegal.”

Ed snorted.

* * *

Roy was not particularly surprised that Hughes found them. He and Edward were both surprised, though, that Hughes had Alphonse in tow.

“Al?” Edward blinked.

“Nii-san. I met Hughes-taisa at the city library, and he said you might be home late today. Winry is having dinner with one of her clients, so I thought I would just join you here.”

The look Ed directed at his brother was so warm that Roy felt impelled to look away so as not to invade their privacy. Hughes caught his eye and laid a hand on his shoulder under the pretext of drawing out a chair.

“Mustang-shousho,” Alphonse greeted Roy rather coolly as he also sat.

Ed’s brother still regarded Roy as a threat that Edward should be guarded against, Roy noted. He smiled at Alphonse with approval. That was just the way it should be.

“No more trouble with your clients, I hope, Alphonse-kun?” he inquired.

Alphonse’s mouth tightened. “No, fortunately it just seems to have happened the once.”

Roy nodded, satisfied. Hughes glanced at Alphonse’s expression and eyed Roy, his own look rather sharp. “Yes,” he drawled, leaning back, “that’s only to be expected, surely, when word has it that the Flame Alchemist is looking out for you.”

Roy met Maas’ gaze with a mixture of warmth and exasperation. He didn’t need Alphonse to know that. “I rather expect the more effective point is the surety that the Fullmetal Alchemist will take exception to anyone approaching his brother like that,” Roy pointed out, parrying the compliment aside.

Edward’s eyes widened slightly as the onus fell on him, which told Roy that, while Edward might have informed him of the two such approaches he had fended off, he had not told his brother. Ed flicked a faintly betrayed look at Roy.

“Yes. I know,” Alphonse replied.

Edward looked as though he were trying to work out just how much Alphonse might know.

Alphonse laid a hand on Ed’s left wrist. “Nii-san. It’s all right.”

The two fell silent in another moment of the unspoken communication that was so characteristic of them. Since Edward relaxed, Roy assumed that Alphonse must have conveyed his acceptance of his brother’s campaign to protect their household by whatever means necessary.

The conversation went more easily after that.

Two hours later, however, Roy was debating the wisdom of the outing, as Hughes had taken it into his head to challenge Alphonse to a game of darts. Why, Roy couldn’t imagine. Alphonse was not, after all, the competitive one.

“Come on, Alphonse-kun, I know you have wonderful hand-eye coordination! And I promise to go easy on you,” Hughes added expansively.

Alphonse paused and turned to look at Edward. One side of Ed’s mouth curled up, and he nodded. Alphonse’s eye took on a sparkle that Roy recognized as a lighter version of the gleam that lit Edward’s when he had some mischief in mind.

Maas might just have taken on more of a challenge than he expected.

Roy glanced across at his friend and tilted an eyebrow. The quirk at the corners of Maas’ smile said that he had caught it too. Roy flashed him a grin.

“This should be entertaining,” he remarked, as the contenders headed for the dartboard.

“Al has very good aim,” was all Edward replied, but he was smirking into his drink.

“I’m very sure he does.” Roy looked after their companions. “You have an excellent friend and defender in your brother, Edward-kun.”

Edward looked up, eyes serious and direct. “Yes,” he agreed softly.

And perhaps Roy had had too much to drink, because he spoke his next thought aloud. “I’ve often thought it would be… pleasant to have a brother.”

Edward began to say something, bit his lip, and then answered slowly. “But you do.”

Roy blinked at him. “Not to the best of my knowledge, Edward-kun,” he said, a bit startled.

Ed shook his head. “What else is Hughes-san, then?”

Roy sat back and simply looked at Edward for several long moments. He really must have drunk too much, his head was spinning. “I must congratulate you, Edward-kun. I do believe you have graduated,” he said at last.

It was Edward’s turn to blink.

“You’ve surely learned everything I can teach you if you can see a truth I hadn’t considered.”

Edward lowered his head; Roy rather thought he was blushing. When Ed looked up again the young man’s eyes were bright. “Thank you very much, Sensei,” he said, half joking and half serious.

“Ah, not that any longer if you’re graduating,” Roy returned.

“O deeply respected very much Senior?” Edward suggested with a wicked grin.

Roy narrowed his eyes. “You never were particularly respectful, Edward-kun, and lately you’ve gotten even more insolent, which I hadn’t thought would be possible.”

“Never while we’re at work,” Ed pointed out, completely unrepentant.

“I suppose I’ll have to be grateful for that much,” Roy sighed.

They finished their drinks in comfortable silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this was written before I had enough hints to twig to Amestris as alter-Germany, I decided to go with the English drinking age, which is eighteen.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed talks to Hughes about his changing relationship with Roy.

When Hughes arrived at their house, mid-morning, with a gleam in his eye, Ed was positive he’d been targeted for something.

“Ed-kun,” Hughes caroled, “how would you like to go on a little outing today?”

Sure enough.

“That depends on where,” Ed answered warily.

“To get glasses.”

Silence.

“I beg your pardon?” Ed said finally.

“Don’t be difficult, Ed-kun, several people have noticed you squinting over your books lately, so I have been dispatched to see that the problem is fixed.”

Ed opened his mouth to deny that there was a problem, but Al cut him off.

“He’s right, Nii-san, and you’ve been getting more headaches lately.” Al gifted Hughes with a pleased and grateful look. “It’s very kind of you to do this, Hughes-taisa.”

Ed shut his mouth. There were times when he could argue with Al, but this didn’t look like one of them. With an obligatory grumble about _who was the older brother, here, anyway_, Ed went to fetch his coat.

“So whose idea was this?” he asked as he and Hughes strolled along. “Gracia-san’s?”

Hughes chuckled. “Good guess, but no. It was Roy’s. I suppose he sees more of you reading than she does.”

“Ah.”

Hughes waited a beat, but Ed said nothing more. Predictably, Hughes decided to needle him a bit, fishing for a reaction. Ed braced himself.

“You have been spending a lot of time with Mustang. Hm. I suppose he is the only man you know that you might someday manage to grow taller than,” Hughes commented, not looking at Ed.

He did look around, rather quickly, when Ed laughed. “I almost have already,” he pointed out.

Hughes examined him for a moment and gave him a slow smile. “I believe you will, at that, Ed-kun,” he said, and Ed knew he was not just speaking of physical height.

And then Hughes tugged on Ed’s pony-tail, earning himself a growl.

* * *

After what Ed was positive was an unnecessarily long and tedious visit, they escaped the oculist with Ed’s glasses. By that time Ed had decided that Hughes might be the best person to talk to about something that had been bothering him for a while. With that in mind he steered them toward a hot pie stand and suggested eating their purchases out in the sun in the usefully deserted little park nearby.

He was sure he wasn’t fooling Hughes for one second.

He couldn’t, for the life of him, think of a way to broach the subject, though, so they ate their pies in silence. At last Hughes stretched out on the sun-warm grass with his hands behind his head.

“So, Ed-kun, what’s on your mind?”

“Well…” Ed fidgeted with the hem of his coat. “It’s kind of… Roy.”

Hughes examined a passing cloud intently. “_Roy_, hm?”

“I think,” Ed broke off, pulled up a few blades of grass, “I like him.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Hughes allowed, smiling. “He may be the most likable bastard I’ve ever known.”

“That’s not… it’s… I mean…” Ed made a stern effort to cut off his own floundering. “I mean like… the other way.” He let his head thump down on his knees with a sigh. _Oh, yes, that was coherent_. He looked sidelong at Hughes as the man sat up.

“You’re… drawn to him?” Hughes translated.

Ed nodded silently.

“Hm. Well, yes,” Hughes said judiciously, “I can see where finding yourself drawn to a ruthless political player with a reputation as an unspeakable flirt, who happens to be your commander, and never ever lets anyone know what he’s thinking if he can possibly help it would be a bit… troubling.”

“Thanks so much,” Ed said sourly, hunching down a little further.

The strangest thing was that that breezy description of Roy Mustang didn’t ring true to him any longer. Well, except the ruthless part. And he did flirt a lot, but he obviously wasn’t serious about it; half the time, Ed swore, he just did it to get a rise out of Hawkeye. And… Ed did usually know what he was thinking these days. Ed sighed.

“You worry too much, Ed.”

“Ex_cuse_ me?” Ed straightened up to stare at Hughes.

Hughes made calm-down gestures. “Let’s think about this. It could just be a crush, which really does happen to the best of us. If that’s the case, it’ll pass off in time with no one the worse for it.”

Ed considered this, trying to decide whether the idea made him feel better or not.

“And, then, you have seemed to deal with him much better as a teacher than as a…” Hughes fished for a good word.

“Puppet-master?” Ed supplied, baring his teeth. “_That’s_ certainly true.”

“So. And, really,” Hughes flopped back down with a sigh, “the fact of the matter is that Roy is a very charismatic man. He _does_ draw people to him. His staff is a good example.” Hughes chuckled. “Did you ever hear what happened the last time Personnel tried to transfer Hawkeye away from him?”

“I thought they’d stopped trying that.”

“Oh, they did, after this! I don’t think she even noticed that they’d thrown in a promotion to sweeten the deal. As soon as she got the papers she marched down to Personnel and held a gun to the head of the officer who signed the transfer until he wrote up a cancellation.”

They both laughed.

“That sounds like Hawkeye-shousa, all right,” Ed chortled.

Hughes stood, and offered a hand to pull Ed up. “I wouldn’t worry, Ed-kun. If it lasts… well, time to do something about it then.”

Ed nodded, accepting the advice.

“Good! So when are you and Al, and Winry too, going to come out to the bar with me again?”

“Are you that eager to lose to Al at darts again, Hughes-taisa?” Ed asked archly.

“That was a draw!”

* * *

Ed lay, that night, staring at his ceiling and considering.

_A crush. A bit embarrassing, but passing_. He could deal with that.

And if it was something else?

Ed ignored the tightness in his chest at that thought, and rolled over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed in glasses is also thanks to [Sakki's art](http://4.neutralred.org/).


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy tries to deal with his changing relationship with Ed.

“Shousho?”

Roy looked up to see Ed leaning in the doorway of his office. “Still here, Edward-kun?” he asked, surprised.

“Hawkeye-shousa mentioned you were still in here, and didn’t seem to be coming out any time soon. I said I’d check.” Edward sauntered in, kicking the door shut behind him.

Roy reflected on the immutable nature of certain things, one of them apparently being his door’s collection of scuff-marks, courtesy of Edward Elric.

“So, what’s all this?” Edward wanted to know, flinging himself onto the couch and nodding at the volumes on Roy’s desk.

Roy sighed, leaning back. “I’m starting to think Marsh wasn’t acting of his own initiative when he interfered with some of the State Alchemists’ work. Since I managed to transfer him he’s been spending more time than I like with Forsythe, who would dearly love to take over Research himself. I’m looking through the reports of the Alchemists in question to see if I can find what might have interested him.”

Ed made a face. “Well, hand one over then.” He held out a hand.

Roy raised a brow. He’d hardly expected a volunteer. “There’s no need for that, Edward-kun, I’m more than half-way through already. Though I appreciate the offer.”

Edward snorted. “If you’re only half-way through, you’ll probably be here another five or six hours with the rest of it. And then you won’t get enough sleep, and Hughes-san will worry about you.”

Roy glared. Ed smirked.

“Even Hughes doesn’t have quite the concern for me, or hold on me, that Alphonse has on you, Edward-kun. Speaking of which, surely Alphonse will be still more worried if _you_ don’t come home on time.”

Edward’s smile turned even more smug. “I called already. They know I’ll be home late.” He wiggled the fingers of his outstretched hand, imperatively.

Roy was torn between annoyance at conceding and a strong desire to finish quickly. Expedience won. “On your own head be it,” he proclaimed, and tossed over one of the reports.

Ed pulled out his reading glasses and promptly stretched out full length on the couch, until all that Roy could see of him were his boots, propped on the far arm, and a tail of gold hair trailing off the seat and almost to the floor. Roy shook his head.

_No lover of his will ever be able to keep their fingers out of that hair_.

He stomped hard on the thought, as he’d quashed the several similar thoughts he’d surprised himself with recently. His awareness of Edward’s physical presence was really getting just a bit disconcerting. He blamed it on the growing extent to which he was able to relax his perpetual wariness when he was with Edward. After all, Ed already knew a great many of the things Roy had to be careful to keep from nearly everyone around him.

Not that that was any excuse.

Though it would be wonderful to have a lover he could relax with, as he couldn’t with any of his little flings.

_Stop this foolishness_, he admonished himself sternly. There was no way he could betray the trust of someone who followed him, knowingly and willingly followed him at that, just because it would be nice to sleep with someone who actually knew him.

Ed had become a good partner in his work, and unless Roy was very much mistaken he was becoming a friend as well. That was more than enough.

Roy turned his eyes firmly away from the gleaming fall of gold and back to the report he was supposed to be reading.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy and Ed finally admit how close they've gotten and take the logical next step.

It had been a harder day than most, and Roy was showing it, at least to Ed’s eyes. When they got back to his office he went to lean his head against the window and didn’t move.

He didn’t often show this kind of stress even to Ed, and Ed was worried.

“We’re done for the day, Edward-kun. You should go home.” The flat tone of Roy’s voice didn’t make Ed any less worried, and he made a snap decision. He’d thought it over for long enough. He was sure of himself. He knew he would have to speak some time. For both of their sakes, let it be now.

“No.”

After a pause Roy lifted his head and turned to look at Ed with an expression somewhere between bemused and displeased. “Excuse me?”

“I said, no.” Before Roy’s expression could decide which way to go Ed gathered his courage and crossed the room to lay his hands on Roy’s shoulders.

“I’m getting tired of watching this, Shousho. Watching you do this to yourself and hold everyone at arm’s length, except Hughes, and pay with a little more of your self every damn day.” Roy’s eyes darkened, and Ed tightened his grip as if that could make Roy listen to him. “Let me help.”

“Edward-kun,” Roy began, only to break off as Ed lifted his left hand to touch Roy’s face. At that his eyes widened slightly.

“Did you really think I could watch you do this, see what it costs you, and not–not start to care?” Ed lowered his hand to Roy’s shoulder again and rested his forehead on the back of it. “If you say anything like ‘It’s only a crush’,” he added, “I am going to hurt you.”

Roy’s shoulders twitched as if with a stifled snort of laughter.

“I’ve considered the possibility that it’s just a crush, except that I’ve had crushes and they weren’t like this. I’ve considered that it might just be hormones, but I’m not looking at anyone else this way. I’ve thought whether it could just be admiration for my teacher, except that you’ve already said I know just about all you can teach me.” Ed took a deep breath. “And I’ve certainly considered the fact that you’re fourteen years older than me, and my sponsor and commander here, and I don’t care.”

Roy’s hands came up to settle lightly on his back. “Edward, do you know what you’re offering?”

_That_ induced Ed to look up with a glare. “Oh, tea and cookies, of course, what else could I possibly mean?” he snapped.

A laugh fought its way past Roy’s exhaustion and tension. “Ah, I’m relieved to see that it really is you after all. I’d thought for a moment that I must have a changeling in my office.”

Ed made a grumpy sound and ignored Roy as much as he could without letting go.

“Are you sure?” Roy asked.

Ed turned back to him. There was the pain he’d gotten better at seeing in the dark eyes, and something that might be hope if Roy let it.

“I’m sure.”

Roy’s arms closed tight around him, pulling him hard against Roy, and the heat of his body, of his breath against Ed’s ear was a shock.

“Are you sure, Ed?” Roy asked again, very softly.

Ed had to try twice before he managed to reply. “Yes…”

Roy lowered his head to rest against Ed’s. Brief shudders had started to run through him, and his arms tightened further around Ed. It took Ed a moment to gather his wits sufficiently to wind his own arms around Roy and hold him. It took longer for the shudders to stop, while Ed hesitantly smoothed Roy’s hair.

“I will never doubt Maas’ judgment in personal matters again,” Roy said at last, a bit muffled.

Ed opened and closed his mouth a few times. “He _told_ you?” he rasped.

Roy raised his head and looked down at Ed with a faint smile. “Some time ago.”

“That… that… snake!” Ed’s indignant sputtering was preempted when Roy ran a finger down his jaw, set it under his chin and lifted Ed’s head the inch necessary for Roy to kiss him.

Roy’s lips on his were soft and slow, the brush of his tongue electric. Ed opened his mouth under Roy’s, catching his breath at the sinuous heat as Roy wound the fingers of one hand into Ed’s hair and deepened the kiss.

Ed had no idea how long it was before Roy drew back, sucking lightly on Ed’s lower lip before letting him go. “Roy,” he breathed, and opened his eyes.

Roy stroked Ed’s hair back. “Will Alphonse and Winry worry if you aren’t home this evening?” he asked.

“No. It’s happened often enough. If I’m not back for lunch tomorrow Al will start asking at the libraries for me.”

Roy smiled. “That’s my scholar. That being the case… will you come home with me tonight?”

Ed shivered at the heat in Roy’s eyes. “Yes.”

* * *

It wasn’t a long walk to Roy’s house. They both made it with their hands tucked into their pockets, though they walked close enough that their shoulders brushed. Once inside, coats and gloves shed, Roy offered Ed his hand to lead him upstairs.

Ed felt a bit shy as they undressed each other, and concentrated on his hands. When they finally stood together with nothing between them Roy took Ed’s face in his hands and coaxed him to look up.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asked gently.

“No,” Ed smiled a bit. “I always had too many other things to be doing.”

Roy’s thumb stroked his cheekbone. “I am honored,” he said, voice low.

His sincerity affected Ed more severely than his kiss had earlier. They were only a hand span apart, and it was too far. Ed reached out and spread his hands against Roy’s chest. Roy breathed in quickly before running his own hands down Ed’s back, drawing him closer. Roy tugged loose Ed’s hair tie and his fingers combed Ed’s hair down. Shivers rippled over Ed, simple sensation rapidly becoming overwhelming.

“Roy,” Ed whispered

He was glad when Roy responded to his unspoken request and caught him close, because he didn’t think he could be any more coherent just now and he really needed something to lean on. He was more pleased when Roy drew him down to the bed; with a solid surface under him and Roy leaning over him he felt far more secure.

Secure enough to tug Roy down for a kiss.

Things became disjointed from that point.

Roy’s mouth seemed to be the only thing holding him down to the bed, as he arched up seeking the heat of Roy’s body above him. The touch of Roy’s hands lingered on his skin until he wasn’t entirely sure where Roy was touching him at any one moment.

At least until Roy’s hand moved between his legs.

Every sense he had narrowed down to Roy’s mouth against his, Roy’s tongue curling against his, beckoning, Roy’s fingers stroking him, circling, Roy’s palm closing around him.

And then Roy’s mouth left his and Roy’s hand slid further back, and _heat_ surrounded Ed. He strained up, into that heat, sliding against him like fire made liquid, and it flooded him completely.

Ed lay, after, panting for breath as Roy stretched out beside him. He turned and buried his head against Roy’s chest, and Roy held him, rocking him just a bit. Ed was glad that Roy seemed to have expected him to be overwhelmed and non-verbal for a while.

After he’d collected himself somewhat he raised his head to look inquiringly at Roy.

“Roy? Are you…” his vocabulary failed him, but Roy seemed to catch his meaning.

“Just fine,” he assured Ed.

“You’re… sure?” Ed was trying very hard not to blush.

A glint of mischief entered Roy’s eye as he took one of Ed’s hands and guided it down.

“Ah.” Ed was sure he was blushing now. Roy had, however, unmistakably taken his pleasure from the evening too.

On reflection, Ed wasn’t really surprised he hadn’t noticed. He wasn’t sure he’d have noticed a brass band on the back of a waltzing hippo for most of the time Roy had been touching him. He settled back down on Roy’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Ed,” Roy murmured in his ear.

“Mmm,” Ed said without moving. “…you too.”

Roy’s fingers carded through his hair, and Ed wasn’t sure when he drifted off to sleep.

**End**


End file.
